Vacillation

Today I have been mostly vacillating. Pardon? Well, if you must know, between (1) continuing to read Simon’s blog from its very beginnings and (2) trying to repel the uncontrollable urge to dance naked round Tesco’s with Lemon Strepsils sellotaped to my private parts. As we speak – or rather as I write, in case we are not speaking - I am up to September 2003 and it’s already taken me several hours, during which time the Strepsils urge has become worryingly more intrusive into my thought processes. Funny, that! Especially when you consider the banality of the events Simon describes. I mean, I could read about democratic beards, kamikaze rabbits, foxes called Ursula and time-travelling dinosaurs ‘til the cows came home, not that any live here, you understand. Or be exposed to pornographic vermin. And all without any appreciable effect upon my mental equilibrium, oh no. Or do I mean oh, yes? I’m not sure. I just can’t help thinking that my time might be better spent undertaking more worthwhile projects, like making up anagrams of Agatha Christie book titles, or distributing hundreds of photocopies of my bottom from an aircraft, but, having set myself the task and it having been publicly advertised, I don’t want to let anyone down. And there is every chance it could become a Thing. Oh well. I must press on. ‘September 2, 2003 Nuclear Potatoes’… *sticks pencil up nose*